Let Me Count The Ways
Page 21
I felt a shaky smile stretch my lips. “More?”
Mike’s expression didn’t change. He gazed at me searchingly, saying nothing.
“Please?” I added in a voice as shaky as my smile.
Mike shook his head. “I can never tell if you’re acting or if you really mean it.”
“I know.” It wasn’t the first time I’d heard that one either, was it? ‘Were you just faking it, Claire? Was any of it real--or just part of your act?’ And it hurt--just like it always did. But not as much as it hurt to admit the truth. Nothing was as painful or frightening as telling him what I’d never told anyone else: “Sometimes I’m not always sure about that myself.”
A little of the tension left Mike’s frame. “I guess I can understand that. I guess it’s not so different than trying to figure out the way I feel about you. Admiring fan, perverted stalker--maybe there’s not as much of a difference between the two as I’d like to believe. Maybe you can’t really draw a line between them?”
I nodded, even though I was pretty sure you could; actually, pretty sure you had to draw a line between the two. But I’d already done that, in this case, hadn’t I? I smiled. “Maybe, sometimes, the line just gets a little blurry?” For him, maybe. Not for me. But the fact that he was worried about it at all told me I didn’t have to be. That told me everything I needed to know. “I really would like another chance to try again, Mike. I think... I think we could be good together.”
For another moment we both just stared at each other. Then he nodded. “Yeah. Me, too.”
An instant later, I was in his arms. I braced my hands on his chest to hold him away; needing to look into his face first, into his eyes; needing to see if they still held that look, the one I’d feared I’d never see there again. They did.
“Mike...” Sliding my arms around his neck, I melted against him, sighing in blissful relief as his mouth claimed mine.
“How much more, Claire?” he asked between kisses. “How much more than friends do you want us to be?”
“A lot more,” I replied, hoping he wouldn’t ask me to be more specific--it was still too soon for that. “I’m sorry I’ve made things so difficult, Mike. It’s just that I’ve been so afraid, so certain that I’d lose you once you knew.”
He shook his head. “You should have trusted me.”
I sighed. “How could I? I’ve been hurt so many times I barely trust myself anymore. And Tuesday... you were so cold, so distant. I didn’t know what to think.”
“Well, I was angry,” he protested. “I was hurt, I was upset about my house. You weren’t really seeing me at my best, you know.”
“Not your best?” I felt my eyes widen. “Is that all you can think to say about it? You made me think you’d never want to see me again. I thought I’d blown it with you.”
“Then you need to listen better. I told you my feelings hadn’t changed. Besides, you weren’t winning many points for tact either, you know.” He looked at me for a moment and then he shrugged. “So, fine. Now you know the worst thing about me. I can be a real jerk when I’m angry. And I know the worst thing about you, too--right?”
I shook my head. “Yeah, well, you know something, Mike? Right now, my worst isn’t looking all that bad.”
He chuckled softly. “I never thought so. As it happens, seeing you at your ‘worst’ has given me a lot of enjoyment over the years.”
Heat flared in my cheeks and, for a moment, I was speechless. “Excuse me?”
“Well, what did you think? That I was watching those movies just for the locations? I wasn’t.”
“No, really? I’m shocked.” The wicked gleam in his eyes sent the blood flooding to several other places now, besides my cheeks. “You’re not going to expect me to re-enact all your favorite scenes for you, are you?”
“Some of them maybe,” he replied hopefully. “But I think I’ll have to draw the line at threesomes.”
“Michael!” I stared at him in surprise. “I’m sorry--threesomes?”
“Hey, you’re the one who mentioned the cab driver.”
“I don’t even believe you’re bringing that up again! And after the way you threw it in my face the other day?”
He sighed. “Did I not mention I was angry? And, anyway, I don’t think it’s fair to use Tuesday as our standard of reference for behavior.”
“You’re right.” I nodded. And then I reached up and ran my hands along his beard, just because I could. “So how is this all going to work out anyway?”
“Beats the hell out of me,” he murmured in reply.
I stared at him. “That’s not the kind of reassurance I was hoping for.”
He shrugged. “You want reassurance? Try this. Nothing’s going to change the way I feel about you, Claire, so you can stop thinking you’re gonna get rid of me so easily. I’m willing to try it any way you want until we get it right and if either of us decides to walk away, I can pretty much guarantee it won’t be me. Especially not over something as completely trivial as some movie you might have made or the fact that you’ve been married nine times or...”
“Six!” I corrected. “It was six times--not nine. Who gets married nine times, Mike? That’s just...”
“Whatever.” He shrugged impatiently. “It’s just a number.”
“You’re an accountant,” I reminded him. “You’re supposed to be good with numbers.”
“Yeah, but what I’m really good at is keeping things in perspective.”
I looked at him. He rolled his eyes.
“Most of the time, okay? When I’m not angry or hurt, when my house hasn’t just burned down. And, besides, you’re a fine one to talk.”
I nodded agreement. “I know, I know.”
“You’re what’s important to me, Claire. Just you. And as for all the rest--how many movies you’ve been in, how many times you’ve been married, how old you are--none of that matters. It’s just numbers; the only thing they’re good for is counting.”
He pulled me close again then, and I let him. Sighing contentedly, I rested my head against his chest feeling very grateful, very happy. Maybe I didn’t need to get a dog after all. “But, what’s all this about my age, Mike? You don’t know how old I am.”
A soft laugh rumbled out of his chest. “Wrong. I don’t care how old you are. There’s a difference, you know. Besides, to me, you’ll always be ageless. Ageless and beautiful, just the way a star is supposed to be.”
I sighed a little as I thought about that. “I was never a very big star, you know.”
His arms felt good wrapped around me, solid, comforting, secure; and his voice was deep and gentle and warm. “Oh, no?”
I shook my head him and nestled closer. “Not really.”
I knew that had been important to me once, but, for the life of me, I couldn’t remember why that was. And I really couldn’t make myself care. Especially not when Mike hugged me tighter and whispered softly, “You were to me. You still are. To me, you’ll always be the brightest star that ever shone.”
The End
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